A Long Understanding
Rebekah Wolveire © 2014
She packed her things not sure when she would be back, if ever. She had to make sure she was gone before they got back. She felt that they just did not agree with anything she said, thought, or physically expressed. She knew she had to leave, and find someone who allowed her to be who she needed to be. She needed someone who allowed her to find and openly express herself.
She wondered if they would know what they said, what they did. . . how they made her feel. . . She felt like an rejected outcast who felt she had no rights or control over her own life. She wanted to please them, but everything she did for them made her hapless. She wondered would they actually change if she told them. . . would she be brave enough to risk it?
Emma knew that she would have to stay with her boyfriend Rider. He said he wanted her to do it for sometime now. She appreciated that he gave her space to grieve although he didn’t understand why at the moment. He did understand that she was trying to find herself, and doing so, she also discovered that they had many things in common.
She knew that the move was the right thing for her to do; she was old enough to be doing things on her own. Her only regret was leaving Patrick and Louie behind. She wished she could take them with her, but she knew that they would just hunt her down like a bear with it’s cubs.
At first, she spent her time cleaning: it was what she did when she was depressed. She would mix her salty tears with the lemon scented soap, and it seemed to make the bathroom and kitchen shine. Rider was pleased with the clean house, but she warned him that she wasn’t always like that . . . cleaning was work, and she worked her best when she was dispirited and wretched. She felt she was being punished—she was punishing herself for feeling as if she had abandoned her brothers, her own flesh and blood. Rider sat her down, got her a cup of tea, and explained that she was older to move on her own. He always seemed to calm her down when she would get frantic.
Time was a cursed mistress: if seemed whenever she started to have some fun, she would think of her brothers stuck doing what they were telling them to do. She thought of Patrick and Louis almost everyday. . . she secretly prayed that they would eventually leave them and find their own immunity and happiness. She loved her freedom . . . she was allowed to be herself, express her own thoughts and feelings and not wondered if she had pissed them off. She could make her own decision without worrying if they would approve or disapprove.
The thoughts of Patrick and Louie held her down like two heavy anchors making her stuck in the wave-less, dark waters of her past. She believed that Patrick had an understanding of what she did and possibly why she did it. However she felt that Louie was just too young to see why Emma left and how she had felt restrained.
Although she was figuratively trending water, she managed to make the most of her time. . . she did things for her and her beloved Rider. She made the foods that they loved, she enjoyed life with him, they told each other stories, and shared dreams. He encouraged her dreams, and even wanted to be apart of those dreams.
Rider had accepted Emma for who she was—good or bad—So what she had a hot temper, but she used that temper to get things done that needed to be accomplished. He loved her, and she loved him. He was her rock, her voice of truth and reason, her hope—he wasn’t just what she wanted, but who she needed. He allowed her to express herself in anyway possible and to make her own decisions and mistakes. He allowed her to come to him for advice, and it was only if she needed it. He didn’t control her life, because he was much too busy living his own life. He hoped that she would live her life with him, but he never tried to force her or control her choices. He wanted her to want to be with him, to want to live with him, to be happy with him! She was free!
Several months down the road, she had gotten a message from her family’s hometown: it was Louie’s birthday. She paced the floor wondering what to do—she knew if she were to show up that nothing were to change. They would just go back trying to control every aspect of her life—making her piteous in the process. She didn’t want to forget her brother—she didn’t want him to be mad at her or forget her either. She decided to write him a letter. . . (She sent it out with the same carrier who gave her the main message).
Happy Birthday. I’ve missed you—I’ve missed you very much. Please do not be mad, but I have to go out live my life. When you get older, you will learn that you have to do some things for yourself. I really do think about you all of the time. . . I hope that you are keeping busy, doing good, and being happy.
I’ve always seen you doing great things—doing things that you love to do. Please do not let anyone change your mind or your heart. Seek the things that you love, pursue them. I love you so very much!
We will see each other again, I promise!
With Hope and Love,
She didn’t put in anything about her freedom or making choices on her own or how she had felt stifled. She wanted to make the letter more about him, not them, those in her family who wanted to tell her when to eat, sleep, drink, work, or who to be with. . . She wanted all those decisions to be hers, and she wanted the responsibility behind each choice.
She knew that her and her brothers were all full of spirit and potential. . . they needed to leave as fast as they could so they could see this liveliness and possibility for themselves. Emma got out, Patrick eventually got out as well, but Louie still kept close to his hometown. He was brainwashed believing that the outside world was much worst than the simple decisions that they made for him. They made him believe it was scarier. . . He worked for a local business from 9-5, got the house and car that they suggested, and even married the woman that they approved. She was pretty, but pushy, she was just as honest as Louie was, but she was harsh with her words and this just pushed all of his buttons. The longer he stayed with her the more he felt vexed and asphyxiated. . . it was all he knew. At times, he thought of Patrick and Emma and how they got out. He wondered if they were as stifled as he was?
It was ten years after their third child was born that his wife died of cancer. He took it as sign to get out. He gathered his three kids, all of their belongings, and left the small hometown. They went out into the world for something. . . freedom.
A few more years down the road, he got in contact with Emma and they met for coffee. He thought he was going to be angry at his estranged sister, (but it was just so many years down the road that his ire had dissipated. It had changed into an understanding, a long reached apprehension. He simply hoped that she left for the same reason he believed in: Freedom.)
He doesn’t ask her why she left. They simply exchanged pictures and stories of years past over cake and coffee. He realized it was better to pick up where they left off than to dig up any old drama. They both enjoyed who they had become: two not controlling or nonjudgmental people.